“Breathe out, so I can breathe you in.” Dave Grohl – Everlong
I see him across the room, talking to his friends. I can’t help but stare, he’s breathtakingly handsome. He must feel my eyes on him because he turns, flashes me a wicked grin and says something to the man standing next to him. I close my eyes and take a gulp of my drink, forgetting that I’ve ordered a straight whiskey. I cough from the burn when I swallow too fast. Breathe out.
Suddenly he’s next to me, still smiling. Now I’m embarrassed. He asks me to dance and before I can reply, he takes the tumbler and sets it on a nearby table. His arm goes to the center of my back, to the spot where my evening gown reveals bare flesh. His fingers are warm as they rest softly against my skin. Breathe in. He smells divine. It’s a subtle scent, clean and manly. I rest one hand on his shoulder as he grasps the other one in his and pulls me to the center of the dance floor.
The lights are low and the other couples around us sway to the romantic ballad. I look into his eyes and see the heat in them. Thank God for the low lighting because I feel myself flush. As the song plays on, he holds me tighter. Our faces nearly touch. His breath is warm against my mouth, his lips close to mine. The fingers on my bare back slowly caress. My heart is hammering in my chest and I’m sure he must know how he’s affecting me. Breathe out.
He moves us to the perimeter of the crowd of swaying bodies as the song ends. Without a word, he draws me out onto the veranda and circles me in his arms. We are alone in the cool, night air and I shiver involuntarily. He gently frames my face with his hands and searches my eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he lowers his lips to mine. His thumbs caress my jawline as he nibbles and sips. He teases with his tongue, tasting like red wine and I moan softly as he deepens the kiss. When we break apart breathless, I say, “If everything could ever feel this real forever…”
Breathe in. I open my eyes and stare across the room again. He’s still standing there with his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I throw back the rest of my whiskey and fan myself. If anything could ever be that good again…
Meg Sorick, Author/Artist 